The Movie Screen Flashes By
by mandaree1
Summary: 'When Numbuh 4, say, falls off a ledge mid-battle and is headed straight for some bumpy rocks a few feet below him, however, you can bet that totally is her fault.' Numbuh 5 has big shoes to fill as a leader, and the struggle is beginning to get to her. Help comes from the unlikeliest place.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Codename; Kids Next Door!**

 **Title: The Movie Screen Flashes**

 **Summary: 'When Numbuh 4, say, falls off a ledge mid-battle and is headed straight for some bumpy rocks a few feet below him, however, you can bet that totally _is_ her fault.' Numbuh 5 has big shoes to fill as a leader, and the struggle is beginning to get to her. Help comes from the unlikeliest place.**

 **Warnings: Brief mentions of blood, but nothing serious.**

 **...**

Numbuh 5 has never hesitated to jump into the fray.

There are times, of course, when she really stops and thinks about it. Not for her safety and wellbeing, but for her father and mother, and how they'd react to her coming home beaten black and blue. The tears they might cry; the questions they'd ask.

In the movies, this is usually the part when the lead turns to the romantic interest and says, "Gracie, (or any other cliche woman's name; Numbuh 5 has always resonated better with male roles) is it worth it? Will my sacrifice really end this war?"

In which, Gracie, or whoever, will reply; "Of course, male character. That's what you were made for."

It's all a lie, but Numbuh 5 understands the need to feel important. She also understands that there will be bunches of Numbuh 5 equivalents in the future, and that eventually her name and Numbuh will be forgotten.

Heroes don't last forever. But that's okay; it's not like she'll remember it anyway.

Nevertheless, she thinks about it. Sometimes it's thought out for her; Numbuh 1 had pulled her aside more than once with a warning. She was a valuable asset to the team, he'd said, and a valuable friend. They would all hate to see her hurt for no reason.

But Numbuh 1 ain't around anymore, and Numbuh 5 has big shoes to fill. Those words fade to a distant memory, one so bland and useless she might get to keep it once her thirteenth comes and goes.

At the end of the day, her friends are her responsibility now. Every win, every failure, every boo-boo and bandage; it's all for her to watch over. If something goes right, it's their fault. If something goes wrong, it's all _her_ fault.

Of course, not every little goof up is hers to take the blame. She needs to remember that. If someone chokes to death over a bowl of cereal in the midst of an argument with their parents, it's their own fault. She can't watch over the team every second of the day, and she shouldn't have to.

When Numbuh 4, say, falls off a ledge mid-battle and is headed straight for some bumpy rocks a few feet below him, however, you can bet that totally _is_ her fault.

Numbuh 5 falls with him. And, in the end, she takes the blow for him. As team leader, it's now her job to go home with the most lumps, and she isn't about to back down from her duty.

"Oh, crud." Numbuh 4 leaps off her, looking equal parts worried and ashamed. "Are you okay?"

"Numbuh 5 is fine." She spits, sitting up, when in reality she's _not_ fine. She's bleeding and it hurts. "Get back to your station."

"But-"

"I _said_ I'm fine!" She gets to her feet in one mostly smooth motion, her actions fueled by adrenaline and anger. "We gotta battle to win."

"But, Numbuh 5-" He tries again, pointing upwards. Numbuh 5 notices it's gone deathly silent above. "The fight's over."

Numbuh 5 swallows embarrassment and jerks her head in a nod. "Good."

Wally gently touches her arm. He looks every bit the little kid he is under all the anger and thirst for violence. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Numbuh 5 is okay." She repeats wearily. "'S just a bruise."

She grips her shirt to pull it away from the skin slightly. She can't let the fabric stain. It'd be a dead giveaway.

"Alright then." He nods and turns to the ledge. "Think you can make the climb?"

Numbuh 5 examines the rock wall curiously. It's not _that_ high, obviously, or they'd have broken bones to contend with, not scrapes and cuts. "Of course she can."

Numbuh 4 nods and steps aside for her to go first. Numbuh 5 doesn't take it.

"You go."

"But-"

"One fall didn't kill me. A second won't, either." It's just a scrape. She doesn't need babying. "Now, get movin'. That's an order."

He grumbles irritably but starts up anyway, Numbuh 5 close behind him. Should he slip, she'll be there to break his fall all over again. That's what leaders do. What _Numbuh 1_ would do.

"There you two are!" Numbuh 3 crows, grabbing her hand to pull her up. Numbuh 2 had been the one to retrieve Numbuh 4. "We ended up having all the fun without you!"

Somehow, she doesn't mind. "Maybe next time."

"Are you okay? That was some fall." Numbuh 2 worries his hands. Numbuh 5 nods.

"Wasn't nothing special."

"I'm fine. Numbuh 5 broke my fall." Wally admits. She wants to slug him.

"Oh, no!" Kuki immediately starts to poke and prod at her. "Any boo-boos?"

"Just some scrapes. Numbuh 5 is fine." She lies, gently grabbing the girl's hand. "She promises."

Numbuh 3 gives her a dubious look, but nods. "Alright, if you say so."

They have so much faith in her. Numbuh 5 ignores a twinge of pain in her gut that's not the least bit physical. "Okay, time to go. We're done here for today."

They all exchange goodbyes and leave. She waits until everyone is out of sight before starting home. It's just as she suspected; now that the adrenaline is gone, she has to limp.

Numbuh 1 would've noticed, she reflected. He'd have given her a dry look over his glasses and waited until everyone was occupied to drag her to the infirmary, scolding all the way. But Numbuh 1 isn't here now, and he isn't coming back.

Maybe that wasn't fair, she thought, gimping up the front steps. Her friends aren't stupid; they would've seen it if she wasn't a decent enough actor. She can't let them see that part of her anymore; she has to be strong.

She sneaks past the kitchen and into the bathroom, calling a mostly normal greeting on the way. A quick dose of painkillers and she'll be fine. She has to be.

Abby examines herself in the mirror. She looks disheveled and tired, like there was a twenty-four hour flu bug she'd just gotten over and had been forced to run a mile in gym class. She takes her hair down and puts it up all over again, smoothing out any obvious snarls. She tugs on her shirt, suddenly unsure what to do with herself.

"Nice bruise you got, there."

She turns and balls her fists. Cree, leaning against the bathroom door, which she had mistakenly left open, holds her hands up mockingly. "Relax. Dad's home. I don't wanna make a scene."

Right. Dad. Abby turns back to the mirror silently.

Cree cocks her head to the side. "What happened? Rough day at the playground?"

"Ha." Abby's mouth twists in a bitter smile at that. "I fell." Somehow, the use of 'I' makes it feel less personal. Maybe that was just the way she talked.

"Off the jungle gym?"

"Off a cliff." She replied blandly.

"Hmm." Cree steps into the room and grabs the med kit off the top shelf, kicking the door shut behind her. "Alright. Shirt off."

Abby bristles anew. "Abby can take care of herself."

"Abby can, but if she bleeds out at the kitchen table, _Cree_ is the one who gets grounded." She hums in reply. Abby grunts and sits on the toilet.

"Alright." She sighed. "Hand Abby the bandages."

Her sister raises an eyebrow. "I don't trust you not to just put a band-aid on it and let it get infected."

"Abby knows her way around the first aid kit." She grumbles.

"I know it better." She replies.

Unable to come up with a good counterargument, she suspiciously pulls her shirt over her head. The scrape is long and deep, bleeding profusely. Gravel is buried deep into the lines of red.

Cree whistled. "Did you smother it with _rocks_?"

"Abby _fell_. Off a _cliff_."

She doesn't reply. The realization that she's letting her older sister swab a bad cut with alcohol finally sinks in.

"Why're you doing this?"

"Because you won't."

She pulls her knees close to her chest defensively, wincing. "Abby knows to be careful. She don't want an infection."

Cree has the audacity to snort. "You have a weird way of showing it."

"Stop laughing." She snarls, dropping her knees in silent compromise. "Abby's just been... busy, is all."

"I noticed." She puts the swabs aside and pulls out a package of bandages. "What was that leader of yours thinkin'?"

Abby winces, this time not because of the pain. "Numbuh 1's gone." The knowledge might as well carry. The sooner the world knew, the sooner they stopped asking questions.

Cree's eyes flicker to hers, surprised. "Where?"

"Gone." Nobody needed to know more than that. "Numbuh 5 is leader now."

Her older sister examines her, probably remembering her vehement refusal to ever lead again. It didn't matter that she hadn't been there for it; Abby had made it known to anyone and everyone who'd listen that she was done. It was the one promise she'd never wanted to break.

"I see." She stands up and goes to wash her hands of gravel and blood. The impersonal tone makes her want to kick her legs out from under her. "When is he coming back?"

Abby swallows. "He ain't."

There was a pregnant pause. She wonders if her older sister is taking her words to mean the boy is dead, and maybe it's best that she does. Finally, Cree shrugs. "You ain't of any use to your team in the hospital. Get it together, already."

Okay, that stung. Abby bunches her shoulders. "Why do you care?"

Her sister pauses, then kneels down. A finger prods her in the stomach, then twists. Abby lets out a yelp.

"Hey!"

Cree tilts her head so they're eye to eye, face utterly blank. "If I have to fight you, it might as well be a challenge."

Abby has to fight the urge to lunge at her. Dad's home, after all. She instead glowers at the teen, whom smirks. "Bring it on, sis. I dare you."

"It's no fun if you're weak." She lets out a false sigh. "It would be one thing if I was taking on your precious sector, but one-on-one? It'd be a waste."

She suddenly understands, that one time, why Nigel had been willing to quit over some embarrassing photos. As leader, she was the face of their little group, and her sister was spitting in it.

Abby hops off the toilet and straightens her shoulders, head high. "Just try it, Cree. You'll regret it."

Cree gives her a knowing smirk and steps aside. "We'll see, sis. Now, get moving; dinner's almost ready."

She marches out of the room, making a note to write a report after they ate, _including_ her sister's threat, if only to be safe.

Cree's shoulders loosen after she left, if only slightly.

"There's the sister I love to hate."

 **Author's Note: First time messing with canon characters. It's been interesting. =) I hope to write more someday.**

 **-Mandaree1**


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